Roses are Red, Roses are Blue
by InsaniumArtisan
Summary: In the smiles they shared, their memories were reflected. That fateful day they'd met, so long ago. Both remembered. Both rejoiced. Both shed tears. Both cared, so deeply, for the other. What other word was there to describe it than mutual love? ((Rights for cover image art belong to Shiupika.))


_Title: Roses are Red, Roses are Blue_

_Fandom: Ib_

_Summary: In the smiles they shared, their memories were reflected. That fateful day they'd met, so long ago. Both remembered. Both rejoiced. Both shed tears. Both cared, so deeply, for the other. What other word was there to describe it than mutual love?_

_Pairing: Ib/Garry (Strictly friendship, some friendly fluff.)_

_Genre: Friendship/Drama_

* * *

_"If ever you're scared, or lost, or lonely  
Just look my way  
I will always be there for you  
Everything will be okay"_

- Garry's Theme "Look My Way" (Lyrics from SirHamnet)

* * *

Blue and Red.

Red and Blue.

All of a sudden, the world seemed cloaked in the dual colors, eternally planted under a neverending waterfall of beautiful crimson, and unforgettable darkened navy.

The only few shards that interrupted their world were the lingering petals of bright and exhausted yellow that danced through their sights, carried on the traitorous breeze. In the park, one would usually be greeted with an environment of red, orange, and yellow.

Ib saw blue, everywhere she looked.

Garry saw red.

Both were content to forever witness the colors of the one they most felt happy with. Such joy was so rare to find between a pair of people, much less those that had been strangers not more than three years ago. And even then, the looks received by those witnessing their bond were obvious.

Distaste.

People thought it odd, obviously, of seeing a twenty-something year-old man walking so freely, hand-in-hand with a child who was not his own. But their conclusions were all drawn to a wrong ending. A bad ending.

Garry was Ib's knight in shining armor. An older brother? Not entirely. Yet there was no space to fill for the position of Father, and Uncle was too familiar all-together.

He was the one she wanted to see every day. To witness his smiling face, and to hold his hand. To eat macaróns and lemon candies with. To paint with, share time with.

Ib was Garry's princess. There was not a moment he did not worry for her safety. Overprotective may have been the word. Was she his younger sister? Not quite. There was a shred of a Daughter-like feeling, something close to Niece?

She was the one he wanted to carry on his shoulders. To take her to carnivals, shower her with presents and candy. To talk with. Teach her to ride bikes. Teach her to swim. To protect her.

Maybe she was like a Sister.

Maybe he was like a Brother.

Whatever the feelings were, they had never changed from that fateful time. Trapped in an untrue world-a false universe of paper truths and painted lies, the two had been fortunate enough to cross paths.

In first glance, the bond had been tied. Red strings dyed blue somewhere in the middle, tying their wrists together as a sign of everlasting friendship. These chains were never forced, and the smiles that came with them were just as true.

Even amongst all the danger that came with the twisted world of Guertena: sadistic dolls, headless mannequins, heads of mannequins, and tropes of bodiless woman that dragged their half-made bodies with grins on their faces and blood under their nails; Garry and Ib had never dared to part ways.

Until Mary.

A flower of yellow. Honey used to lure in unsuspecting prey to the child's web.

She had seemed so kind, at first glance. Full of energy, and always running about with such a joyous smile, Ib hadn't had time to think twice about her intentions. Garry, although his thoughts on the girl had come to a darkened conclusion, had gone so far as to trust her...to an extent.

A child. She was just a child. And yet...

The hand nestled in his own tightened a bit, and the purple-headed male looked down, his crimson-eyed princess still silently grinning up at the array that stretched above them. Flowers, Red and Blue. Sky, Blue to Red.

A world of such beautiful colors. The world they had escaped the golden prison of, to come back to. The one they had left-the one they had sought departure from.

The crooked domain they had abandoned Mary back to. It was her world after all. Created for her. Created all for her.

His foot tapped stressfully against the linoleum tile of the display room, the same probing fingers of guilt that found him time and time again making their way into his mind, flooding his subconscious with images of tear-filled faces.

Dolls caked with bloody lines, running down their eyes in rivers.

Mary, screaming, pleading. Her brandished palette knife slicing the air so wildly that he was surprised her arm hadn't jumped from its socket.

The last tiny glimpse of Guertena's universe sneering back at him through a eyes cluttered with anguish, torment, and longing, as he pulled Ib into his arms, and they both were reinstated into the world they now knew.

Once a rainbow, now a single palette design of Red and Blue.

Red and Blue.

Blue and Red.


End file.
